I'll Always Care
by cclarasdoctor
Summary: Sequel of sorts to Don't Act Like You Care. The tables are turned and Clara's left taking care of a sick Doctor, whether he wants her help or not.


**A/N: A few people have asked for a follow up fic to Don't Act Like You Care, where the Doctor gets sick instead. Still faced with some writer's block, so what the hell :) this one will be a bit more humorous than the last because you know...Twelve :P  
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**Disclaimer: I own nothing more than this story. Doctor Who belongs to BBC**

**Another Disclaimer: It's a Monday, and I'm exhausted. This probably won't be one of my best fics :3**

_I'll Always Care_

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><p>After another long, stressful, yet successful day at Coal Hill, Clara was feeling thrilled and excited for her next adventure with the Doctor. Instead of walking into her house with ill, sluggish movements, she bounded through her door excitedly, ready and willing for her and the Doctor's next adventure. Just as expected, the TARDIS was waiting behind her bedroom door, and she burst through the door with an anxious smile.<p>

Instead of being greeted by an excited, talkative, and at the same time, frustrating Doctor, she was met with the sound of harsh coughing and sneezing, and a pair of bloodshot eyes peering at her from behind the central column.

"You..." The Doctor croaked, emerging from his place and sneezing into his now gooey black sleeve. "You did this to me! Filthy human germs...this is horrible!"

Clara bit her lip, trying so hard not to laugh. "Doctor...are you sick?"

"No I painted my eyes red and I'm coughing my lungs out for the hell of it."

Clara shrugged. "Guess you're fine, then!" She piped, practically skipping up to him. But upon doing so, seeing the Doctor close up, her heart twisted in pity. He actually looked miserable. "Are you okay?"

"Look at me!" He shouted, resulting in a wince and the brief clutching of his head.

"I didn't even know Time Lords could get sick." She mused with a huff. "So...did you get whatever I had? No...Doctor. The big, bad egomaniac, fallen ill to the human cold." Clara giggled, putting her hands on her hips. "Where's that big head of yours now?"

"Shut up." He grunted, leaning back against the console.

Concern beginning to betray Clara's eyes, she took a tentative step closer and laid a hand on his forehead. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Well, you're not runnin' a fever."

"Clara, I should feel like _ice _to you right now. Time Lords have a significantly lower body temperature than humans...have you not noticed that? Funny little human brains. I'll never understand how you work. So, yes. I _am _running a fever, thanks to YOU and your disgusting human germs!"

"In my defense, I _tried _to go back home, but noooo. You had to hold me captive and insist on half-hour beeping sessions."

"Beeping sessions? Clara, those were sophisticated medical scans, and very well could have saved your life!"

"I had a _cold._"

"Whatever."

"And so do you."

"I could be dying! It certainly feels like it! I mean, how is it possible to be hot and cold at the same time?"

"Well, I survived. So you can stop freaking out." Clara said, growing slightly annoyed.

The Doctor just let out another frustrated grunt, slumping further into his seat with exhaustion. Clara gave him a lopsided smile, walking up to place a hand on his shoulder. To her surprise, he didn't try to shrug it off. "Why don't you go lie down?" She suggested.

"No. I'm fine." He argued, jumping to his feet as if to prove a point, only to be hit with a massive headrush and resulting in him slumping against the console.

"You're really not." She crossed her arms, bracing for an all out conflicting fight. "Please, just go get some rest."

As if she could be more surprised, the Doctor solely nodded, eyes drooping closed in exhaustion before shooting back open. He pushed himself back into a proper standing position, and sulked off to his bedroom.

"I'll come check on you in a bit!" Clara promised, calling after him.

"No need." He huffed, then disappeared into the corridor.

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><p>Clara spent most of that day wandering aimlessly about the console room, checking on the Doctor ever now and again, and...well that's it.<p>

The Doctor had been asleep for three hours or so, and Clara had only checked on him twice during that period. Each time, he'd shooed her away, muttering something about weak human ailments again and again. Clara wished she could to more. She knew how miserable he must be, Time Lord or not. But if he wouldn't even let her near him, there wasn't much she could do.

She was just contemplating whether to go check on him for a third time when she heard the sound of shuffling footsteps coming from the corridor. She involuntary laughed out loud at what she saw.

The Doctor stumbled in, his thick black duvet wrapped tightly around his jacketless form. He sneezed several times, coughed even more, then flopped down into the jump seat across from Clara with a miserable groan.

"Don't. Look. At. Me." He eyed her with a serious look in his eyes, and Clara obeyed without question. She bit her lip, determined not to laugh again.

"You look like-"

"A dead burrito." He muttered.

"My thoughts exactly." She squinted, biting her lip even harder. She couldn't contain it much longer.

But for some reason, the sound of him sniffing loudly set her over the top, and she broke into a giggling fit.

"Shut up!" He whined, sounding quite childish for the first time since his regeneration. "Seriously. Shut up."

"Sorry." Her laughter faded into a couple chuckles, then halted all together. She sighed, regaining her composure. "Can I get you anything?"

"No." He croaked. "Why are you even still here?"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone while you're sick. You looked after me, so it's my turn to look after you." She smiled slightly.

"Didn't know _you _cared that much." He muttered, meeting her eyes, but his voice was lacking sincerity.

But Clara's voice wasn't. "I'll always care." She crossed the console room and sat down on the jumpseat placed beside him. She grabbed the duvet, still wrapped tightly around the Doctor, and pulled it off his shoulders, tossing it aside.

"Hey!" He protested with annoyance. "I was using that."

"If you want your fever to break, you need to get rid of _that,_" Clara gestured to the duvet, then stood up and quickly retreated to the kitchen. She was only gone moments, returning soon with a glass of water. "And drink this."

"I don't need a nursemaid." He grumbled, but took the water anyways, sipping at it slowly and wincing as it ran down his throat. "More like a cup of nails than water." He complained.

"Shut up and be grateful for once." Clara laughed, giving him a quick pat on the back. "Go on back to bed. It'll be best for the both of us if you can just sleep this off."

The Doctor looked like he was about to protest, but decided against it. He instead stood up, not meeting Clara's eyes, and departed to the corridor. Before entering, he looked over his shoulder. "Clara?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

He looked away. "Thanks." And with that he walked off, leaving Clara smiling and speechless.

**A/N: I know it's shorter than the other, but my laptop's about to die and I wanna post this before it does :P**


End file.
